


Are Lovebirds Pigeons Too?

by samdil



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Bird Watching, Losers Club (IT) Friendship, M/M, Stozier, Teenage Losers Club (IT)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 06:06:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21010979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samdil/pseuds/samdil
Summary: When Stanley becomes disappointed that nobody wants to join his bird-watching club, Richie decides to be a good friend and join him in his endeavors.





	Are Lovebirds Pigeons Too?

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Hopefully, you enjoy this! I actually researched birds native to Maine for this! Leave comments and kudos if you do enjoy it!

Stan loved the losers, he did, but he’d also be lying if he said he didn’t wish he had some other friends who appreciated his some of his other interests more. Sure his baseball team appreciated baseball the way he did, but he doesn’t exactly enjoy spending time with them outside of when he needs to be. He just wished he had somebody to sit and watch birds with every so often. That’s why he started the bird watching club. Yet here he was, at the fifth meeting, alone again. He doesn’t know why he made this stupid club, he was perfectly fine watching birds alone until the idea came to him that maybe he didn’t have to, but, evidently, he does have to. 

\----

A week later and Stan was preparing himself to once again be let down by the lack of people in his club. You’d think that after a month and a half of the same it would be less disappointing, but it doesn’t. It just becomes more of a reminder that your interests aren’t normal for people your own age. Stan shut his locker and walked towards the school’s exit when he felt a familiar set of hands on his shoulders, 

“Stan my man, what’s up? Going to that bird club of yours?” 

Stan sighed and stopped walking, turning towards his best friend, “I’d hardly call it a club, Richie. It’s just me there every week.” 

Richie was going to make a joke about Stan trying to replace the losers, or even about birds being lame and that’s why nobody wants to join, but he was looking at Stan looking genuinely sad. He never saw his friend like this over being alone. Usually, Stan valued his alone time every so often. Suddenly Richie had an idea. 

“You know, Stan, if you want someone to come with you today, I’ll go.”

Stan nearly scoffed at the idea, Richie was his best friend, so he knew better than to think he had any interest in bird watching, “Rich, you really don’t have to. You can just go home and-”

“No, Stan! I want to-I really want to go with you. I think it would be fun.” Richie smiled nervously, Stan noticed that for the first time since they met, Richie looked nervous to be around him, almost the way he used to look at Bowers’s cousin during  _ that _ summer, but it couldn’t be. Stan was just reading too deeply into it. Richie doesn’t like him. 

Stan returned a sheepish smile before replying, “Then what are we waiting for, trashmouth? Let's go.” 

Stan and Richie left the school and headed towards the quarry. 

“Stan, why are we going to the quarry? We spent the whole fucking summer there. There are no birds.” 

Stan shook his head, “Then you haven’t been paying enough attention. Besides, that’s not where we’re going. We’re going to the woods.” 

Richie raised his eyebrows, “The woods? Oh, near the kissing bridge? How romantic Stanley.” 

Stan’s face felt hot and he knew it was bright red. Usually he’d be unbothered by Richie’s comments, but with the way he was staring at him earlier, and now Stan is holding Richie by the hand, leading him towards the area Richie had never been before, it’s all a bit too much for him, “Shut up, Richie.” Unbeknownst to Stan, Richie was also blushing, struggling to keep his up with his usual trashmouth self. Stan stopped walking and he let go of Richie’s hand, “We’re here.” he said, removing his blanket from his bag and his pair of binoculars. He laid the blanket down before sitting and patting the blanket next to him, signaling for Richie to sit, which he gladly did. 

“Ya know Stan, I still don’t see many birds.” 

“We just got here. They’ll come. We just have to be quiet and wait.” 

The two boys sat together in the comfortable silence they’ve come to enjoy over so many years of friendship. Stan shifted slightly and his hand brushed against Richie’s. Both pretended not to notice the other’s cheeks become a subtle shade of pink, because there’s no way it could be because of the other. Richie was watching Stan and suddenly his face lit up. 

“What do you see, Stanny?” Richie asked, and the small bird looked towards them briefly before choosing to ignore them. 

“Be quiet,” Stan whispered, pointing to the small brown bird in the tree, “it’s up there.”

“Is that a pigeon?” Richie asked, his voice hardly a whisper. 

Stan shook his head, he should’ve known Richie would treat this as a joke, but he told him anyway, “It’s a black-billed cuckoo. Coccyzus erythropthalmus. One of the few cuckoo species that look after their own eggs. They’re omnivorous, mainly eat insects though,” 

Stan continued speaking about the bird and Richie intently listened, eyes shifting from the bird and towards Stan. He looked at Stan’s brown eyes and his smile reached them. Stan looked genuinely happy and his passion made Stan look all the more beautiful to Richie. He wanted to kiss him and tell him how beautiful he looked when he was passionate, but he kept quiet, knowing Stan could never reciprocate. 

Stan stopped speaking and Richie pointed over to a tree branch directly above them, the two boys laid back, “What about that Stan? Is that a pigeon?” 

Stan shook his head, “Richie, it's safe to say we won’t see many pigeons here.”

“But we have, because that’s a pigeon, right?”

Stan shook his head again, this time letting out a soft chuckle, “No. It’s a great crested flycatcher. Myiarchus crinitus. It’s the most widespread member of its genus. It’s almost always in the treetops. It actually doesn’t have sexual dimorphism like most birds do. Males and females generally look the same.” 

Richie stared at Stan again, looking at his soft lips and wondering how they’d feel against his own. 

“Richie,” Richie was still in his own head when Stan lightly smacked his shoulder, and he became aware of how dark it suddenly was, “Rich. It’s getting dark. We should go home now.” 

Richie sat back up and nodded, before standing and helping Stan fold his blanket, “You know Uris, I really enjoyed being here today. Would it be okay if I came with you next week?”

Stan smiled widely, nodding his head. Maybe he didn’t need new friends to bird watch with him. Maybe he just needed Richie. Richie who made him laugh, and who laughs at Stan’s jokes even when he doesn’t understand it. Richie, who he had a huge crush on. 

\----

Weeks go by and Stan and Richie fell into their comfortable rhythm. Every Monday after school, the pair meet up at Stan’s locker, they leave, and find their favorite tree to sit under. Well, Stan’s favorite tree to sit under, Richie doesn‘t know enough about trees to have a favorite, but if Stan likes that one then there must be a reason why. Every time they see a bird Richie asks “is that a pigeon?”, to which Stan always replies with a whole slew of information about the bird, and slowly Richie begins to understand why Stan loves this so much. Richie compulsively performs for the world to feel seen, but Stan sees him, and he sees more than just “trashmouth”. Stan sees Richie as the smart, funny, loyal friend that he is. It’s easy to forget Richie’s act is just that, an act, but Stan never does.  _ That’s why I love him _ , Richie thinks to himself.

“Hello? Earth to Richie? You okay?” Eddie asked, waving his hand in front of his face.

Richie shook his head, coming out of his daze, “Huh? Yeah Spaghetti man. Just thinking about your mom.” 

The rest of the losers let out a small chuckle, the one they let out whenever Richie makes a “classic Richie” joke. 

“Oh very funny, trashmouth. Come up with some new material.” 

“Can’t. I have a brand, Eds. Would you ask John Mulaney to stop talking about his wife?” Richie looked at Eddie with a smile that screamed ‘you know I’m right’.

Eddie turned away from his friend, this time addressing the group as a whole, “So like I was saying, Stan, are you still looking for people to join your bird watching club?” 

“I mean it’s hardly a club. It’s just Richie and I.” Stan looked at his friend and they exchanged soft smiles. 

“S...o do you want us t-to join?” Bill asked, “If we’re all there maybe m-more people would c-come.”

“Strength in numbers,” Bev added. 

“If you guys want. Nobody is gonna force you to, but if you think you’d have fun go ahead. Meet us at my locker after 8th period today.” 

\---

So they did, and Stan led them down towards the quarry, like he did the first time he took Richie, except this time, they didn’t sit down under their usual tree. Instead, opting to walk south a few extra yards before settling down. Per usual Stan and Richie sat next to each other, personal space hardly existing, Bill and Eddie to Stan’s left and Mike, Bev, and Ben to Richie’s right. 

“So when do the birds show up?” Mike wondered.

Stan went to reply, but before he could Richie whispered his reply, “Well, sometimes we don’t see any, but it helps to be quiet.” 

The rest of their friends looked at the pair quizzically, disbelieving that Richie would find interest in a hobby that involved such quiet, reading their reactions, Stan quietly told the losers that, no, Richie did not, in fact, scare the birds away. 

A few moments passed before Ben pointed to Stan and Richie’s usual bird watching tree, “What’s that?” he asked. 

“That’s a calliope hummingbird. Selasphorus calliope. It’s named after the Greek muse Calliope. It’s actually late in the season to be seeing one this far north.” Richie told Ben. This time even Stan was surprised at Richie’s answer. 

Stan looked up at Richie, looking pleasantly surprised by his friend’s knowledge, “I never told you about them,” 

“I know, but I fell in love, so I did some research of my own,” Richie replied, smiling sheepishly and staring directly into Stan’s eyes, trying to say three very important words without actually speaking.

“With bird watching?” Stan asked, his heart beating out of his chest, face red. He was returning Richie’s gaze and, hey Stan hadn’t noticed his hand was on Richie’s, no need to move it though. That would make it a  _ thing _ , and it’s not a  _ thing _ .

Richie gulped and his smile went from sincere to playful, as he tried to laugh off what he said, “Of course. Bird watching.” 

Ben and Bev exchanged looks, wordlessly saying “Bird watching, my ass” and “We’ll talk later” to each other, respectively before shaking the moment off, returning their eyes to the bird. 

“Hey guys, what about that one?” Eddie asked, grabbing the pair’s attention and removing the two from each other's gaze and to the new bird, Stan’s hand lingering a moment longer before slowly removing it from Richie’s own and answering Eddie’s question. 

As the sun began to set the losers all head out of the woods and made their separate ways. Ben deciding to take the long way home to talk to Bev about what they noticed earlier. 

Bev was the first of the pair to speak, “So, you know we can’t go to the next meeting, right?”

“Of course. I’m sure bird watching is fun, but we were definitely sitting in on  _ their thing _ . It would be like if everyone else sat around watching us when we show each other new music.” 

“Exactly. So how are we going to convince everyone else not to go?” 

\----

The rest of the week came and went, and it was Monday again. Just as they did the week before everyone had gathered around Stan’s locker. 

“Are you guys ready to go bird watching again?” Mike asked his friends, “I had fun last week” he added. 

“You know,” Ben said, drawing out the ‘o’ sound of the word, “I wish we could, but don’t you remember we all have, uh…” 

“Band practice!” Bev interjected, “Remember?”

“I...don't…” Eddie said, confused by the couple. 

Beverley shifted her eyes quickly to Stan and Richie who were quickly becoming suspicious of their friends. 

“Oh! Right!” Mike exclaimed, “Band practice! Don’t you remember, Bill?”

“Uh, sure. We all have band practice.” Bill replied, nodding, still confused, but figuring his friends would explain later when they were alone. 

“Are you guys okay? I don’t remember ever making a fucking band, let alone agreeing to rehearse on a  _ Monday _ . Who does that?”

Bev laughed nervously, trying to signal to Eddie to shut up and ask questions later before dragging him by the arm away from Stan and Richie and the rest of their friends following. 

“Well that was weird” Stan pointed out.

“I know” Richie stated, “Why weren’t  _ we _ invited to be in the band?” 

\---

Stan stopped at their usual tree, grabbing Richie’s arm to signal him to stop walking when he continued.   
“Oh, we’re sitting here again?”

“Yeah. This is our tree.” He said, sitting down, still holding his friend’s arm as he followed suit sitting down on the ground. Stan inched closer to Richie before putting his head on Richie’s shoulder.

“Long day, buddy?” Stan couldn’t help but feel disappointed by the word ‘buddy’, but outwardly he didn’t show it.

“Yeah.” 

Richie took Stan’s hand and gently rubbed his knuckles,  _ just two bros _ , Richie thought to himself.  _ Just a friend comforting a friend _ , “What happened?”

Stan sighed, “Nothing really, just usual school stuff.”

“So its a personal thing? You can tell me anything, Stan. You know that. We tell each other everything.”

Stan gulped, looking up in the treetop before noticing a brown bird and pointing up at it, “Look at that.” Stan said, almost a little too loudly, excited to have a distraction from the conversation. 

“Is that a pigeon?” Richie asked, as he always did. 

“No. Well, actually, they’re in the same family. It’s a mourning dove. Zenaida macroura. It’s actually one of the most widespread birds in North America and it’s a popular game bird.” 

For the first time since joining the club, Richie zoned out. Instead just watching Stan speak passionately and smiling at his friend as he watched Stan crane his neck to see the bird, knowing Stan’s neck would hurt later before shrugging it off and saying it was worth it. He kept thinking about how much he admired Stan’s passion for birds, and for everything he loved even if he was alone in that passion. How Stan is always trying to take an interest in the passions of his other friends, because Stan loved to see his friends happy, and how it’s a shame none of them tried to love his interest in birds sooner. 

Stan asked Richie a question, and when he didn’t respond Stan lightly tapped his friend’s face, “Pay attention to the bird, ninny. Look at them, not me.” 

Richie shifted over a little bit and Stan took his head off the taller boy’s shoulder, “Hey Stan, I have an unrelated question. Doves are a symbol of love, right?”

“Right.”

“And so are lovebirds.”

“Yes.”

“So are lovebirds pigeons too?”

“No. They’re actually a species of parrot. Why?” 

“Well, people call couples lovebirds right, and Ben and Bev are a couple.”

“Richie, I don’t understand where you’re going with this.” 

“Just, sh. I’m going somewhere with this I promise.”

“Okayy…” Stan said, staring at his friend, becoming more confused as every second passed. 

“Well sometimes I look at the way they act, and how we act towards each other, and I think ‘maybe we’re kinda similar’. Basically, what I’m trying to say is-”

Stan interrupted Richie, “I love you too, doofus.” 

Richie’s face lit up, feeling a ten-pound weight come off his chest and his smile spreading from ear to ear, “Really?”

“Yes. Really.” Stan said, returning Richie’s wide smile, and it would have gotten wider if that were at all possible as Richie placed his hand gently on Stan’s cheek and he leaned in and placed a kiss on Stan’s lips. It was, for lack of a better term, very them. It was a little awkward for a second before they relaxed and just let everything fall into place. It felt right, like they should’ve done this years ago, back in  _ that _ summer, even, when Richie was too busy chasing some asshole closet case when he had known who he really wanted was his best friend. When he could’ve had him for years by now. Richie chuckled at the thought and Stan pulled away, his joy quickly turning into anxiety that he had done something wrong, “What’s so funny, Rich?”

“Just that we should’ve done this ages ago.”

Stan’s smile came back, “agreed,” he said before pulling Richie into another kiss. 


End file.
